


everything is more beautiful, because we are doomed.

by twerkingkanaya



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Angst, Control Issues, F/F, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:06:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twerkingkanaya/pseuds/twerkingkanaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Beauty! Terrible Beauty!<br/>A deathless Goddess-- so she strikes our eyes!” </p><p>Rose Lalonde has control issues. Also, she rather enjoys Greek Mythology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.”

“Kanaya, I am seriously beginning to believe that you doubt my prose and knowledge in the realms of Greek Mythos. Such hurtful statements wound me, in a gut-wrenching form that I would liken to Achilles’ pain and rage.” Rose spoke passionately, confidence dripping from her voice like the finest ambrosia of the Gods, dancing around her tongue like silk, and intoxicating Kanaya like freshly-pressed wine.

Such an intricate statement left Kanaya staring at Rose with a blank expression on her face, attempting to grasp whatever slurry of words had just tumbled out of her mouth. Mostly trying to dance around the fact that her knowledge on Greek Mythology was scarce and, well, limited to say the least. “I believe I have every reason to doubt you. You can’t recite a few obscure lines of Greek poetry and call yourself a Mythology buff.” As she spoke, she held her phone idly in her hand. It wasn’t on, nor was she awaiting a text. It had become a habit to just hold it whenever she became nervous, something to occupy her hands with instead of doing something strange. Unsurprisingly, holding a phone in one’s hand was infinitely more socially acceptable than rapidly squeezing a stress ball during social interactions.

Rose was seventeen and Kanaya was sixteen, older than her by exactly four weeks, three days, seventeen hours, and twenty-three minutes. They had spent an awfully long time calculating the exact age gap between them during a free period spent in their usual hiding spot. Some people thought they disappeared to their little ‘spot’ to smoke, exchange drugs, or partake in other scandalous activities. There had even been a few whispers of romantic interactions between them.

“Would you, perchance, like to read my copy of The Iliad sometime? I think you would rather appreciate Homer’s prose. He goes very in-depth into the gory, hear-wrenching bits of the story, and I know that you have an odd fascination with that sort of thing.” Though it wasn’t there on her face, the smirk was clearly evident in Rose’s voice as she spoke to Kanaya. “It’s the hardback version of the book. The cover is red, made of fabric, and portrays flames licking at the sky above. It’s all very symbolic, perhaps too symbolic for a Greek Mythology beginner such as yourself.”

They were hiding out in a faraway corner of their school, somewhere behind the dodgy, run-down theatre, hiding in the shade of a looming oak tree, cigarette butts scattered in the space between them. They sat on the soft summer grass, looking on nostalgically at the establishment that they had been attending for more than three years, occasionally adjusting or fiddling with their stuffy school uniform. Rose would occasionally rest her eyes on Kanaya’s body when she did such things. Not anywhere particularly intrusive or sexual, rather, intimate places. The finer details of what was, perhaps, one of the Universe’s greatest works. Kanaya Maryam. Kanaya Maryam, whom Rose could liken to a perfectly sculpted Grecian marble statue in every sense. The shapely arch of her collarbone, the way her hair gently curled around her ear, her long lashes when she blinked- God. Surely, this woman would be the death of her.

“I don’t know if it’s my sort of thing, you know? Sure, I enjoy hearing you talk about it, but whether I’d be willing to dedicate such-“ She was soon cut off by one of Rose’s theatrical moments.

“Rage—Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus’ son Achilles, murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses!” Rose exclaimed, having memorised the famous passage off by heart. Kanaya, as per usual, pretended to find the outburst silly and childish, looking on with a familiar grimace on her face. In reality, she wouldn’t want Rose to be any other way. She found her so graceful and endearing, she couldn’t help but- shit, had she been staring? With a quick shake of her head, Kanaya returned back to earth from her world of daydreams, in which Rose kissed and caressed her skin every night, whispering her darkest secrets from across the sheets as they embraced. 

“Well done, you’ve managed to memorise a somewhat impressive line from The Iliad. Clearly, I am not worthy of being in the presence of scholar-esque intellect such as yourself.” Kanaya rolled her eyes, the light reflecting on them in a way that made them appear emerald green. Rose only playfully ruffled her dear friend’s short black hair, snickering in the process. ‘Playfully’ used in a very loose sense. 

Kanaya pretended to not notice how her fingertips rested on her dark skin for a few moments longer than what was probably necessary. The way the very tips of her calloused fingers, probably from all of her intense writing sessions, rested cautiously on her scalp for those few fleeting moments, until they disappeared back to safer spaces. The safer space of Rose’s personal bubble, to be precise.

Did Rose feel the sudden shift in mood? Did she feel the way that the air had grown colder between them? More tentative, more delicate? More frail? These were the things Kanaya wondered as she held eye contact with Rose, noticing the slightest hint of hesitation in her voice as she finally spoke up.

“Kanaya,” Rose stood up, long, elegant legs and all. “To be entirely honest, I think I’m going to get absolutely slaughtered by my Geography teacher if I don’t get to class on time. Do you know how many times I’ve been late to his lessons this week?” There wasn’t a pause before Kanaya’s response. “I can’t help that you are so enthralled and charmed by your conversations with me. Anyways, I have to go to Physics, so we can walk together.” Kanaya had intended for the statement to be nothing but a simple jibe at her friend, but, alas, it fell flat between them. Either that, or it never flew at all in the first place.

The walk back to the main school building was… to put it simply, like walking back to class in the tundra. That’s how icy the atmosphere was between them. All because of a lingering touch that had only intended to mean little, but had horrendously mutated to simultaneously mean everything and nothing to the two girls.

“I’ll see you later, alright?” Kanaya finally piped up before they parted ways. Rose only nodded. “Yes. English should be fun.” Rose managed a weak smile as she spoke to Kanaya, before waving as she took a sharp left to walk to the Geography block.


	2. Do you fear what you don't know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Why so much grief for me? No man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate. And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you - it’s born with us the day that we are born.”

Rose sat in the back of Geography, stewing in her own thoughts. ‘Stewing’ was a good way to describe her current thought process, namely in the sense that she was absorbing all sorts of thoughts and theories to try and sort her own life out. Her thoughts shifted from Kanaya, to caressing Kanaya’s soft skin, to kissing those gorgeous, defined lips of hers. 

It made Rose feel nauseous.

How could someone have this much power over her thought process? How could she even let that happen in the first place? It wasn’t a secret that when Rose Lalonde said that she hated not being in control of her life, she meant it in every way possible. She couldn’t help but react violently to people who had a stronghold over her thoughts, people who reigned over her actions, and, most certainly, people who had her wrapped around their little finger.

Letting someone have that much of a grip on your life was terrifying. That thought alone struck a chord of fear within the very core of her being. With her train of thought already drifting back to Kanaya, she couldn’t help but note how she would most certainly see right through her façade of fake confidence. It was shameful, really, that if one took away Rose Lalonde’s ability of pretending to be brave, they were left with nothing but a scared little girl.

Rose chewed on the inside of her cheek, fingers wrapped tightly around her pen as her teacher continued droning on about the subject of wildlife in… Nicaragua? Costa Rica? She hadn’t been listening, so she didn’t know. At least her teacher didn’t seem to mind. Or care for that matter.

Was Achilles, son of Peleus, a control freak? When he realised just how strongly he felt for his dear friend Patroclus, did he spend hours upon hours mulling over the topic? Or was he straightforward with what he wanted?

All Rose wanted was nothing more than to understand why she couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of letting herself have intimate feelings for Kanaya, or letting Kanaya see her most vulnerable sides. Perhaps she was afraid of her using such vulnerabilities against her? Whether it was her insecurity of just how intelligent she truly was, or the fact that her home life was in shambles, she just couldn’t fathom the idea of letting Kanaya hear these things.

Their next lesson together was just as uncomfortable as Rose had anticipated for it to be. 

They took their usual seats next to each other, chatting about whether they had started their essays and whatnot, but the air between them was different. Their gazes lingered. They looked into each other’s eyes more than usual. They sat unabashedly close together. These things all added up, making Rose’s heart race faster than usual. Perhaps she was over-analysing things, jumping to too many conclusions at once.

At one point, their hands practically rested side-by-side, so close that Rose could feel the heat emitting from Kanaya’s skin. Rose briefly glanced over at the other girl, but Kanaya was staring straight ahead, watching the teacher explain one of the many poems they were studying. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual about her complexion. She looked just as calm and composed as she usually did. Rose hurriedly looked away before she could notice, her leg bouncing erratically underneath the desk as she tried to steady her heartbeat through slow breathing.

The class seemed to last an absolute eternity, which was why as soon as the familiar chime of the school bell rang, Rose made the decision of leaving the classroom as soon as possible, not saying a word to her dear friend Kanaya. Books stuffed haphazardly underneath her arm, Rose made a beeline for the door, pretending to not hear her dear friend Kanaya when she called after her.

Rose’s walk back home consisted of panicking, trying to forget what had just happened, and ignoring the constant vibrations from her phone in her pocket. At one point, seven vibrations later, Rose had to take her phone out of her blazer pocket, if only to see what was happening.

Six text messages from Kanaya Maryam. 

Three missed phone calls from Kanaya Maryam.

Not being able to handle, or deal with what those messages could possibly contain, Rose made a move to turn her phone off. It would, most likely, remain switched off for the rest of the night. 

Perhaps this was a bad idea, she thought to herself. Kanaya was probably just worried about her, and it would worry her even more if Rose didn’t respond for an entire night. That, and Rose would have to see Kanaya tomorrow at school anyways. It hardly made any sense at all to ignore her for the rest of the night, especially considering how much of a fretter Kanaya could be. She’d be worried sick, trying to call everyone to see if they were able to get through to Rose, maybe even going to her house just to make sure that Rose was safe and sound. 

Rose probably didn’t deserve someone as caring as Kanaya.

That thought came crushing down at the center of her chest like a ton of bricks, shattering her ribcage and rendering her lungs useless. She felt short of breath, she felt dizzy, she was feeling too many things for her to comprehend- too many things happening all at once, too many things, too many things, too many…

As soon as she stepped into the comforting warmth of her abode, Rose couldn’t help but let out a labored sigh of relief. Here, she was safe. Here, she could lie down, think about her thought in peace and without interruption. Without hesitation, she immediately stomped up the lavish staircase of the equally lavish house to her exceedingly lavish room. The house was eerily empty at this time of day, with her older sister, Roxy, attending University to study Engineering, and her Mother doing… God knows what.

Rose’s relationship with her mother was strained at the best of times. Though there had been a time long, long ago when they were close, all of that was shattered and ruined by intoxicants Rose’s unwillingness to fix their broken relationship. Her mother wasn’t abusive, no, not at all, just… negligent. She had rarely been around during her early teen years, which, singlehandedly led to Rose holding a sempiternal grudge against her mother. Like most bad things in Rose’s life, she chose to ignore the problem. Ignore the problem, and move on to think about better things.

When she finally stepped into her bedroom, it was a cluttered mess. Clothes were strewn haphazardly across the floor, the bed, her desk. An untuned violin lay in solitary in the corner of her room, having not been played in months. She looked on at it with an air of sadness. Of course, she knew she was rather good at the violin, and she could’ve joined her school’s orchestra if she wanted to- alas, she didn’t. “Too much time and not enough rewards,” She had said offhandedly to Kanaya when they were discussing the topic. Kanaya joined the school choir, the theatre group, the football (or, ‘Soccer’ team, as their coach called it), and she thrived in all areas. Rose chose to not join any clubs, deciding that it was a waste of time.

As if the guilt of not deserving Kanaya wasn’t enough, a fresh wave hit her when she laid eyes on the polaroid picture of the two of them, the picture lying on top of a pile of books next to her laptop.

It was a wonderful picture. It was the two of them at a school event, a charity fundraiser at their school’s annual Christmas fair. They had been selling hot chocolate, and, damn, did they raise a lot of money. Kanaya, being as trendy as ever, insisted that they take a selfie using her Polaroid camera.

_“I don’t see why you’re so opposed to it, it’ll be fun!” She held up the baby blue Polaroid, wearing that charming grin of hers, the sort that could make anyone weak at the knees. Rose certainly wasn’t immune to such endearing charm. “My phone camera quality is infinitely superior, but- you know what? If you’re intent on being as indie as humanely possible, we’ll do it.”_

After staring at that picture for a while, she finally turned on her phone.

GA: Rose

GA: Why Were You In Such A Hurry To Leave Class

GA: Sure, I Understand That Sir-Drones-A-Lot Is Hardly Ideal For Explaining A Poem Almost (Almost) As Dull As Himself, But You Looked Stressed Out

GA: Rose

GA: Hello

GA: Rose Why Are You Not Answering My Calls

Those string of texts really hit Rose hard. What she had done was deplorable, ignoring her friend who just wanted to make sure she was okay. With a few hesitant touches, Rose finally called Kanaya back, waiting for her to answer with bated breath.

“Rose?”

Thank god.

“I’m sorry, Kanaya. I’ve just…” The silence between them laid over their conversation like a thick blanket, choking the two of them of air. And of words to say.

“You’ve been acting strange recently. What’s going on? I feel as though you’ve been avoiding me.” The worry was evident and clear in Kanaya’s voice. 

“Today was awkward, Kanaya. I’m sorry.” 

The silence that hung in the gentle fuzz of the phone call felt like it lasted an eternity. Rose immediately regretted the words as soon as they fell out of her mouth, and she wanted nothing more than to take them back, instead, to ask if Kanaya wanted to come over and do the things they usually did. Watch obscure cult movies, attempt to bake, or even just reading and enjoying each other’s company without actually speaking. Anything would be better than what Rose had just created.

“…Right.” Kanaya said, her voice dry and flat. 

“…Yes.” Rose responded. 

“My mother is calling for me. I have to leave.” Before Rose could interject with something, _anything_ , to make sure that conversation didn’t end on such a low note, Kanaya had hung up the phone. She had every right to hang up, of course, but that didn’t ail the ache of regret in Rose’s stomach. 

Rose sat, defeated, on the end of her bed, running a hand through her dyed blonde locks. She probably needed to re-dye her hair sooner rather than later, as her brunette roots were coming through, becoming increasingly evident with each day that passed. Kanaya used to joke that-

Oh god. Kanaya. The thought made her feel sick to the bone, and she had to clutch a pillow tightly to her chest just to stop herself from being violently ill. The words that weren’t spoken meant so much more than the words uttered. Rose hadn’t meant to scare Kanaya away like that, if anything, she wanted the complete opposite.

She was just too afraid to let her in.


End file.
